Page 26 of Triplets for the Russian Boss

“Oh,” she says, shrinking down and getting quiet. “I’m sorry.”

“As you should be,” I say, not giving her any leeway to play up her sweet innocent girl act. I can’t forget that she took a door off its hinges to get a glass of water. She’s a tricky one.

Bonnie is already dressed, well prepared for the day, even though we’ve only been asleep for a few hours. I suspect she never actually went to bed, but that should make her more manageable today. If she’s tired, she won’t be able to give me so much shit while we’re traveling.

“I suggest you eat something, quickly,” I say, stepping back into my room and speaking over my shoulder. “The plans have changed.”

“I didn’t know what they were to begin with.”

“That’s intentional,” I reply. “The only thing that you need to know is that you belong to me.”

“I work for you,” she attempts to correct.

“Belong.”

There’s silence from her end, but I’m not going to let her stand in my doorway and glare at me all morning. We need to get going before a member of the 37th Street Bratva rattles off a hundred shots into the side of the building. We’ll be swiss cheese, if we don’t get out of here soon.

I look over my shoulder as I grab my phone from the bed and tuck it into my front pocket. “Go get food or you’re not going to eat today.”

“Really?” she asks, giving me more attitude than I need on a morning like this.

“Yes, go,” I say, waving my hand.

She plants her hands on her hips, blonde hair brushing her shoulder as she cocks her pretty head to the side. “I still need to go to the store.”

“We’ll stop at the drugstore on the way out of town,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m not going to tell you twice about breakfast.”

She disappears from the doorway at the mention of food, her little feet making a pattering sound as she rushes down the marble hallway. She’s cute, when she’s not giving me utter hell.

I go to my closet and pull out a boxy leather suitcase, tossing guns in it without much regard for organization. The more I have, the better. There’s no telling what kind of trouble we may get into on the way out of here.

I usually keep the air conditioning in the headquarters quite cold because I’m always wearing a suit, but I notice that it has changed when I step out into the hallway again. I’m certain that not only has Bonnie been breaking rules and leaving her room when she’s not supposed to, but she’s also messing with the thermostat.

I shake my head, flying down the hall with my suitcase held rigidly by my side. That woman is nothing but trouble. I should’ve left her at the club.

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